An Original's Darkness
by A.Damaged.Rose
Summary: "I'm so sorry I never got to love you," she spoke, and tears, this time of regret, tumbled over her cheeks. She could only hope that her words, useless and too late, would find him wherever he was. AU, of a sort.


**Author's Note: This is likely just going to be a oneshot. There are different tenses in it...different perspectives. I suppose it's confusing and messy. Ah, well. The italics take place at the very end of the story...so I guess it's another weird thing that I put them at the beginning, but I felt as though it set the tone of the entire oneshot, and therefore somehow _fit_. To set a timeframe for you all, the story begins in episode 2x08 and follows through to the end of season 2. Read and review, as always. **

**Warning: Character death and general "doom and gloom". **

**I do not own The Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

><p><em>Elena drinks a lot of coffee. She's afraid to sleep. Jeremy watches her like a hawk and Caroline and Bonnie help. She is effectively locked in her own house again, except this time she feels no urge to fight it. Why should she leave?<em>

_According to Stefan, Klaus has left town and he's taken Katherine with him. Good riddance, she wants to say, but she can't. Katherine tried to help them. And Klaus? Why drag out the tragic end to her story? She knows that he will discover her. He's Klaus. He is the world's most dangerous monster. No one escapes his clutches. Just look at Katherine – she spent five hundred years running from him. Now she is his._

_And Elena will not become a vampire. She doesn't want this life. She never wanted it. She knows she could spend her lifetime in hiding. She knows it, but she doesn't want it. Klaus will find her and he will destroy her._

_As though he hasn't done it already._

_Alaric sleeps soundly on the couch across from her. She stares at his face, at the lines that have appeared by his eyes and mouth almost overnight. Her heart aches. _What will you do?_ she wonders._

_She takes a heavy sip from her mug. She hates black coffee. Hates it._

_Tears rise to her eyes again. Nothing she does can stop them. It has been a year since her life was turned upside down when Stefan walked into it. Three months since she learned what it meant to be the only star in an Original's darkness. Two weeks since people she loved simply evaporated, like they had never existed at all._

* * *

><p>He paused, his gaze lingering on Elena's eyes as she clung to his brother. Her eyes met his and there was warmth in them.<p>

"Thank you," she mouthed. A moment of hesitation almost lingered on her tongue.

"You're welcome," he mouthed back, and a piece of him seemed to shatter.

He couldn't remember when he fell in love with her. It wasn't a soft or heart-warming kind of love. It was pure adoration, a passion that burned him alive from within. And every time she looked at him it _hurt_. He wasn't delicate; he snapped necks without a second thought, drained bodies without remorse. And yet she woke something in him that he had buried deep. Something he had tried to forget, and, for the most part, had succeeded.

Elena's eyes were closed now. Her arms were wrapped around Stefan's neck, locked in an embrace Damon would never receive from her.

He turned from the staircase and left.

* * *

><p>He waited on her window sill. Her necklace was pressing into his palm, just deep enough that he could feel the small bite of vervain hidden within its silver chambers.<p>

She emerged from the bathroom in adorable pajamas that tugged at heartstrings he refused to acknowledge. Her eyes were downcast with exhaustion.

"Nice PJs." Because banter came easy to a bastard like him.

"Damon, I'm tired."

Yes. He could tell that she was.

"I brought you this." He stood up, dangled the necklace before her, almost smiled as her eyes widened.

"I thought that was gone."

He shook his head.

"Thank you." Something shined on her face for a moment. He took the necklace out of reach and watched it disappear.

"Please give it back."

"There's something I need to say."

She was wary. "Why do you have to say it with my necklace?"

He was confused for a moment, until he realized that she feared something horrible. "W – because what I'm about to say is the most selfish thing I've ever said in my life."

The wariness remained. "Damon, don't go there."

"Please. I just have to say it once. You just need to hear it."

His eyes pleaded with her to listen. She quieted.

"I love you, Elena. And it's because I love you that I can't be selfish with you. Why you can't know this."

Her eyes were filled with a doubt and pity that raged within him like a storm. God, she was beautiful.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered. His words scarred his tongue.

"But my brother does."

He leaned in, pretended not to notice as she backed away from him. His lips pressed against her forehead, a beat too long for friends, and he savored the warmth of her skin against his.

She was staring at him, as though seeing him for the first time. And he felt it, the great spark he'd been waiting for her to realize. He could tell, in that instant, that she cared for him. Not the way he wanted, but she did.

His fingertips grazed her cheek, a gentle stroke of satin smooth skin. "God, I wish you didn't have to forget this."

Her eyebrow dipped a millimeter, her head tilted, her eyes widened in realization. But it was too late. He waited for her pupils to dilate and allowed a single tear to fall. And then he was gone.

* * *

><p>"Elena, Elena, Elena. To what do I owe this….enchanting pleasure?"<p>

He threw back the rest of his Scotch, daring himself to look at her without cringing.

He heard the soft footsteps of her approach, and then felt the warmth of her hands against his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Damn. Defeated, he turned to her, took in her cheeks, flushed from the cold, her eyes, dark with concern, her lips and her skin and every other thing about her body that reminded him of Katherine. But when she glanced up at him with a clear expression, one that wasn't cloaked with other intentions, he knew it was her. Elena. Elena, to whom just the other day he'd professed his love.

And he had compelled her to forget.

So why was he expecting something to be different?

"I'm peachy keen. What, can't you tell?"

"No, I can't, actually." She reached up to her necklace and unclasped it, holding it up, a bold accusation. "You brought this to me last night."

It was a statement, not a question. She had no doubt that it was him. The forced grin fell from Damon's face.

"Yes."

"You made me forget, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Tell me why. What happened last night, Damon?"

"Believe me, you don't have to know, you don't want to know." He began to pour another glass of scotch.

She stopped him, clutching to his arm. "Tell me."

He shook her off – gently, of course. "No. Don't forget who you're talking to. If I made you forget, there's a pretty good reason for it."

"Right, because you never use compulsion lightly." Sarcasm bit through each sharp consonant.

"Do you really think that you can _make _me do anything?" He resumed his pouring into the tumbler.

She swallowed. "Did you…hurt me?"

That struck him. He ignored the pain her complete lack of faith in him inspired. "Jesus, Elena. No, I did not hurt you." _You hurt me, _he added silently.

"You promise?"

He held out his hand. "Pinky swear."

Elena gave an exasperated sigh before returning to the matter at hand. "Then what did you do? What happened that you won't let me remember?"

He was surprised to see tears jump to her eyes. He decided to throw her a bone. "Nothing bad."

"Then what? It was just more convenient to compel me?"

He did that "eye thing". "Pretty much."

She narrowed her eyes at him and let out an angry exhale. "Just because I'm a human doesn't mean you have the right to mess with my memory. I thought we were friends."

"If you want to know that badly I can definitely help." He smirked.

"I want to know, Damon."

"Then have some of my blood, I'll snap your neck, and that memory will come back like _that_." He snapped his fingers in front of her face.

The truth was, he'd thought about it numerous times during the whole Klaus-coming-to-kill-the-magicy-doppelganger thing, and the idea of Elena as a vampire was tantalizing, to say the least. And to be sired by him, to have his blood running through her veins….

"Damon. _Damon!"_

"Yes?" He batted his eyelashes.

"Tell me. Now."

Damon yawned loudly. "Well, this has been fun, but I'm bored now, so shoo. I have humans to terrorize."

He left her standing in the middle of the room with an expression on her face he could place rather easily. After all, she'd used it with him more times than he could count.

_Disappointment._

* * *

><p>"I love you. You should know that."<p>

His shirt was soft beneath her cheek. An onslaught of tears soaked the fabric, her mouth opening as she failed at stifling her heart-wrenching cry.

So here she was, weeping into Damon's chest, nodding desperately as he forced out his final words – speaking only of his love for her. Her gut twisted. Her last-ditch hopes of a cure were collapsing all around her, and all she could think was _No. Please don't let him die._

"I do," she said. "I do." It sounded more like a confession than a confirmation.

She loved Stefan, she truly honestly did. He was sweet and warm and kind, and would honor her wishes above all else. Damon smashed those wishes into the ground – he danced on their graves. His only priority was keeping her _alive_.

How had she not seen it before? How could she have been so cruel?

_Liar liar, 'Lena. _

She knew. She always knew, she always saw. She was cruel because she wanted to hurt him. Because she couldn't forgive him for the destruction he'd caused.

But she did now. God, she did know. Please, anyone. Save him. Save her.

Couldn't they see she was tied to him? Couldn't they see that she needed him, she needed Stefan…she needed those men – both of them – the one who was a selflessstar-litsavior and the one whose blood sang her name?

"You shoulda met me in 1864."

She could feel him smile.

"You would've liked me."

Sobs built underneath her skin. She couldn't let him die, let him leave her thinking she hated him, thinking she would never love him, thinking he was undeserving.

It took all of her strength to lift her head and lock gazes with him. His electric eyes were clouded over, shadowed with defeat.

"I like you now," she whispered. And she meant it. To her very core, she meant it. She swallowed back her tears. "Just the way you are."

His eyes began to flutter. No. Her heart pounded, wailed, slammed against her ribcage. Every tired breath he took destroyed her.

This was grief, this was loss. This was the end of their story. And she couldn't let it end like this.

She leaned against him, pressed her mouth against his for a fragile moment. He tasted of ash and silence.

This was how they were, she realized, she and Damon. He needed her, craved her…loved her. And she wanted him for no one, especially not herself. They were so similar they were different.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." _Please_, her heart pled.

She watched the final bursts of color fade from his eyes. Watched his breathing grow ragged. She waited until his chest stopped rising, until the tears from her eyes dried on her face and her bones broke inside her body.

"I'm so sorry I never got to love you," she spoke, and tears, this time of regret, tumbled over her cheeks.

She could only hope that her words, useless and too late, would find him wherever he was.

And then she collapsed against the body that lay beneath her, the one that wasn't Damon, not anymore, and cried until someone, anyone, found her and pulled her away.

* * *

><p>"You need to drink this, Elena. Please."<p>

Somewhere in the back of her mind it registers that Caroline is holding a cup of tea in front of her face. And yet all she can do is blink at her friend, barely feeling the tears that splash against the table.

Caroline sits down beside her, reaches out an arm and grasps Elena's hands between her own. "God, I am so sorry. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now. I really can't."

Her friend offers the cup again.

"Please drink this. It might help."

Elena struggles to breathe, to force the words off her unwilling tongue. "It won't. It won't."

More tears. More pain.

She closes her eyes. How could it be that she is still living? How could it be that she has gone on existing in a world where he didn't?

Caroline continues to talk. "I know how much he meant to you, Elena. I can't even believe it…Stefan's in shock. Alaric is just destroyed."

"Please stop." Elena shakes her head over and over.

She speaks to Caroline. She speaks to herself.

But even Caroline's blathering and refusal to leave her the fuck alone cannot stop the images from returning.

Elena can see it, can feel it…she is living it again and again, as Stefan lifts her into his arms, as he soothes her, kisses away her tears. As she pounds his chest with her fists, as she cries for his brother.

How she falls asleep in Damon's bed, beside his corpse. How Jeremy has to drag her from the room so Stefan and Alaric can bury it. Because that's what it is, Elena, she reminds. An it. Not a he.

He isn't a person anymore.

He isn't real.

"He's not real," she whispers.

Caroline looks like she might be hysterical. "Oh, 'Lena."

Elena can't stop herself from repeating those words. "He's not real, Care."

"He's not real."

She chokes on her own poison.

Jenna. John. Damon.

All solid presences in her life just days before. All gone.

"It's not fair," she cries. "It's not."

Caroline embraces her, clings to her. "I know."

Nothing will ever matter again.

She knows what needs to be done.

"I have to talk to Jeremy. Now."

* * *

><p>Her brother is tired and worn. His eyes are much older than they should be.<p>

When did she begin to fail in protecting him?

"Caroline said you wanted to talk to me."

She nods. "I wanted to say how sorry I was. I understand what you were trying to do before. After Anna."

"That was a mistake," he says. He sits down on the bed, on Damon's bed, only to stand up quickly, hurt flashing on his face for a fraction of a second. "I didn't know what I was giving up, Elena."

She watches him, takes in his broad shoulders and the clear lines in his face. He is not a child anymore. "I just wanted to tell you that I understand. I get it."

He appraises her, moves with an air of caution. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? Please. You're – well, you're the only family I've got."

"You'd be okay," she says. She smiles, and it is filled with holes and half-truths. "I just can't do this anymore, Jer. I'm so exhausted."

"Becoming a vampire won't take that away. It'll still be there, growing, lurking. You can't run from your feelings forever. That's what Damon tried to do and – "

He sees her tears. "Shit. I'm sorry."

She holds herself together long enough to get it across to him. She does not want to become a vampire, she explains. Her voice is calm. She wants to die. She's ready to surrender. Klaus will keep searching for her, she reminds him, when he realizes she is alive. He will tear the world apart. No matter where they go, she is putting them all in danger just by breathing.

Elena doesn't understand why Jeremy is looking at her like that – like, as Damon might say, she just killed his puppy. He has Alaric and Bonnie and Caroline and Tyler and maybe even Stefan. He has a world without Damon's ghost haunting him. He has a life here, has strings that tie him to this Earth. He will have small children with his fine hair and creativity and Bonnie's coffee skin and magic. He and Alaric and Tyler will sit on his porch, tossing back beers while Caroline schemes with Bonnie to come up with a plan to get Tyler to propose.

She can see his life without her. She can picture his wedding, Alaric's new girlfriend, Caroline and Tyler's happiness, the rapidly piling collection of home-made videos, capturing first steps and barbeques and birthdays.

Doesn't he see that all of his problems die with her?

"No." He shakes his head at her, and the stare he gives her breaks what is left of her heart. "I need you, Elena. God, you have no idea. You can't just…give up. That's not what he would have wanted…that's not what John sacrificed himself for. That's not what Jenna died for. They all died keeping you alive! And I need you so fucking much. You have to know that."

Guilt, somewhere within her, sinks its teeth into her consciousness.

She can't breathe here, not in this world that is stained by Damon's sarcasm and crushing confession, by John's truly unconditional love and the ring he left that rests on her dresser, by Jenna's warmth and the ever-lingering scent of burnt lasagna…but she can't escape this either.

Jeremy is her tie. And with his words, he has grounded her, pulled her back to reality.

Damon isn't real, the voice in her head cries. The voice in her head is hoarse. The voice in her head is begging her to reconsider.

But _I_ am, she tells it.

She takes Jeremy's extended hand and collapses into him. She lets him guide her out of Damon's room. She doesn't stop him when he flips the light switch and drowns Damon's spirit in darkness.

She doesn't stop him when he closes the door.

* * *

><p>"You truly are lovely, Katerina."<p>

Klaus smiles at her, admiring her bronze skin and dark eyes. "How could I have ever simply let you go?"

He nods his approval as she remains silent, and the gleam in his eyes turns wicked. His fingers clench around a lock of her hair.

"Sit down," he says. His pupils dilate and then constrict. "We leave tomorrow morning."

"Where?"

He shakes his head. "Tsk tsk. Patience is key, dearest."

Without thinking, he finds himself stroking the cool wooden surface of his brother's casket. In one lifetime, Klaus has finally captured and sealed the fates of all eleven of his Original family members.

He is _the _Original. _The _hybrid. The doppelganger is dead. He is finally free from the curse those damn witches had lain upon him so many centuries ago. He looks back at Katerina and smiles. With one flick of his wrist he will end an entire, fucking nuisance of a bloodline.

And so – he breathes, inhaling the inviting aroma of Katerina's growing fear – he has become the most powerful creature this world has ever known.


End file.
